


Coming Home

by pandaseek



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:33:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27931549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pandaseek/pseuds/pandaseek
Summary: None of this mattered right now. Not when he hadn’t felt his fingers or his feet in hours. He wore every jumper he possessed, and his hands were buried inside the pockets, but it did nothing to stop the icy winds tearing through his clothes and chilling him to the core. He needed to find somewhere out of the elements to sleep for the night.He hated suburbia for this very reason. Plenty of nice homes, all occupied with people who were far to concerned about strangers camping in their woodsheds or breaking into their cars. He had to find something soon though, he knew he wouldn’t make it back to the interstate like this. He turned his eye’s back to the rows and rows of neatly manicured near identical houses. Looking for anything that might stand out as uninhabited or dark enough that the owners would miss his shadow slipping into their garage for the night.Too many lights shining brightly out of windows drew his attention at last to a dark spot in the street 20minutes later than he would like. His teeth were chattering, and he was getting desperate enough to risk slipping into an occupied house. The darkened house down the street looked like heaven wrapped in a bow tie just in time for Christmas.
Relationships: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Comments: 30
Kudos: 273





	Coming Home

Two days out from Christmas. At least that’s what the calendar in his head was telling him. He hadn’t had an opportunity to check in three weeks now. Every newspaper he had picked up were already days old and covered in stains that he didn’t want to know what had created them and unfortunately, knew too well what had created most of them.

  


Nathaniel hadn’t been to South Carolina before, as far as he knew his father’s operation stopped at the North Carolina border. Expansion was always a possibility, but he doubted they could have expanded two states down. One was conceivable, which was why he wasn’t in North Carolina.

  


None of this mattered right now. Not when he hadn’t felt his fingers or his feet in hours. He wore every jumper he possessed, and his hands were buried inside the pockets, but it did nothing to stop the icy winds tearing through his clothes and chilling him to the core. He needed to find somewhere out of the elements to sleep for the night.

  


He hated suburbia for this very reason. Plenty of nice homes, all occupied with people who were far to concerned about strangers camping in their woodsheds or breaking into their cars. He had to find something soon though, he knew he wouldn’t make it back to the interstate like this. He turned his eye’s back to the rows and rows of neatly manicured near identical houses. Looking for anything that might stand out as uninhabited or dark enough that the owners would miss his shadow slipping into their garage for the night.

  


Too many lights shining brightly out of windows drew his attention at last to a dark spot in the street 20minutes later than he would like. His teeth were chattering, and he was getting desperate enough to risk slipping into an occupied house. The darkened house down the street looked like heaven wrapped in a bow tie just in time for Christmas.

  


He approached the house like he had every right in the world to be walking up to its front door. The grass was long and unkempt in stark contrast to the neatly clipped lawns that surrounded the property and Nathaniel hoped that meant that the owners had left for the holidays. Maybe if he got really lucky, he could shelter here for more than a few hours, or have somewhere to go back to tomorrow night when the temperatures became unbearable once more.

  


Once in the shadows of the house, with a quick check to see if any pesky neighbours were looking his way, Nathaniel slipped down the side of the house and quietly began checking the windows and doors. He could break in, but it was so much nicer if the owners had forgotten to lock something. The less damage he did, the less people would notice his intrusion into their lives. Break into one house and by morning the whole neighbourhood is on the lookout for thieves and it becomes unviable to go back.

  


These owners were not the forgetful type as luck would have it. Nathaniel fumbled with his lock picks crouching down in the darkness beside the back door. He was thankful that the fence was high around the back, obscuring the view from the houses on either side and allowing him to work in frustrated peace as his fingers refused to co-operate with the lock.

  


Two dropped picks and three slipped fingers later and he was finally inside. Closing the door behind had him almost sighing in relief. It was cold inside but compared to the icy blast beyond the door, it was almost warm.

  


Being the paranoid fucker that he was, he flattened his back to the corner next to the door, one hand on the handle as he listened for any sings of movement in the house. The air smelt stale but after living in abandoned buildings frequented by the homeless, he knew better than rely on that alone. He focused on the hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen, closing his eye’s and ignoring the rushing heartbeat in his ears. Further in he could pick up the steady tick of a clock over the sound of the wind outside. He strained to hear any noises from the floor above him and found none.

  


He sat in silence for what seemed like hours waiting for a new noise to alert him to the presence of some-one inside the house, a steady snore or the squeak of a floorboard, but none came. He could feel his fingers again by the time he decided it was safe enough to move. With the renewed feeling came the sharp pains of pins and needles as his blood warmed up again.

  


He pulled the handgun from his duffle and took the chance to creep around the house on the balls of his feet, ignoring the needles jabbing his skin with each movement, to get the layout of the house. Cataloguing each entry and exit point he could find. Satisfied that the house was indeed empty and had been for some time, he indulged himself by drinking luke-warm water directly from the tap by the handful and scrubbing his face and hands quickly to feel clean again. He didn’t want to recall how long it had been since he had managed an actual shower and he wasn’t about to expose himself like that in an unknown environment. This was still some-one’s house after all.

  


Pleased with feeling cleaner and satisfied that he wasn’t about to die of dehydration or exposure, Nathaniel made his way to the back of the house. He wanted to be as close to the back door as possible in case something changed. He curled up in the small laundry beside the door, his hand resting gently on the handle of his gun, tucked away under his duffle/pillow.

  


Exhaustion was calling. With only five hours of sleep in the past week it was hard enough to keep his eye’s open anyway. But that didn’t stop the shelf of clean blankets above him from taunting his subconscious as he gave in to unconsciousness. 

  


Blades swung back and forth, taunting him, their sharp shiny edges coming closer and closer with each breath. In the distance his father’s laughter echoed of empty hallway walls, filtering down so much that Nathaniel couldn’t place the origins. The blades held his attention as they always did. His body weighed him down. He tried to bring his arms up to push the blade away, they felt like he was moving them through mud. No matter how hard he tried he couldn’t bring them up. The blades danced closer and he could hear the high-pitched snick as they sliced through the air. The thud of a heavy foot echoed through the hall. Fear clawed at his throat as he waited for the inevitable. Soon the cleaver would come. Footsteps echoed again. Closer. Louder. Real.

  


His body was moving before he could open his eye’s. Bringing to gun up to the sound of the threat instantly. Pain shot through his shoulder as his arm was wrenched forward, the gun slipping through his failing fingers and clattering across the floor. The gasp of pain escaped his mouth as he took in the looming figure in front of him. He kicked out wildly and managed to a decent blow to his attackers’ side. He didn’t so much as flinch. Not even a gasp of surprise before bringing his fist down on Nathaniel’s cheek, snapping his head back against his duffle.

  


He knew when he was beat. Knew when to play dead until another opportunity arose anyway. And Nathaniel was done with this fight, for now. He rolled to the side, bringing his capably arm up in a show of surrender.

  


His attacker had a knee on his chest and a hand on his throat in the same breath.

  


Nathaniel blinked to clear the pain clouded images before him and focus on the face hovering above him. Blond hair and hard, sharp features. He couldn’t make out the colour of the eye’s in the shadows of this man’s face, but the blank expression sent his heart rate spiking. A homeowner would be angry, furious even, to find him squatting in the laundry. This man looked like he was taking out the trash, completely uninterested despite the hand on his throat and the gun sitting idly on the floor just feet away.

  


He looked familiar. Nathaniel tried to place the face; it would be just his luck to have been found by some anonymous henchmen for his father’s organisation.

  


“Andrew turn the heat on! It’s freezing out here!” A voice rang through the hall, oblivious to the stranger pinned in the laundry by this Andrew.

  


Andrew showed no signs of having heard the request, keeping his eye’s locked steadily on Nathaniel’s and the grip on his throat unwavering.

  


“Are you going to play nice?” Andrew growled quietly. “Or do I need to bury a body?”

  


Nathaniel wiggled the fingers on his left hand between them. “I’m being nice.”

  


Andrew didn’t respond beyond easing back slowly and picking up the gun. Nathaniel watched each slow move, waiting for him to strike out again and as he watched he was being watched. Two men in a stalemate, neither stepping out of their respective space as they tried to figure out the next move.

  


“Get up, slowly.”

  


Nathaniel had to use his left hand to push himself to his feet, his right arm hanging limply by his side. Pain was an old friend that he had no intention of recognising while there remained a threat in the room. He considered using his feet again when Andrew didn’t rise with him. But with the gun in his hands, he wouldn’t make it out of the door, so he would wait.

  


Andrew picked up his duffle, scraping it against the floor and throwing it over his shoulder as he stood. He was shorter than Nathaniel and almost twice as wide with nothing but muscle. Complying was the only option right now. Nathaniel was great at evading tough places and escaping when backed into a corner, but he was shit in a head on fight and this guy would crush him without a second thought.

  


“Keep your hands up.” Nathaniel raised his left hand. “Both of them.”

  


“I can’t.” He admitted.

  


Andrews eyes went straight to his right-hand swaying loosely by his side. “Broken?”

  


He shook his head. “Dislocated.”

  


Andrew nodded towards the hallway. “Move then, to the kitchen.”

  


Nathaniel went with a fair amount of caution but no complaints. A few of the lights had been turned on now and he could hear the heavy breathing of the new occupants, though he didn’t see any of them yet. They seemed to have moved to different parts of the house. A quick glance at the clock in the kitchen told him why. 2am usually meant that people were looking for their beds. One at least would be sleeping on the sofa from the sounds. He wanted to know just how many were in the house, but he wasn’t stupid enough to ask.

  


“Sit.” Andrew commanded, pointing to the breakfast nook.

  


Nathaniel used his foot to pull out a chair, keeping Andrew in his sight as he sat down. Andrew had dropped his duffle on the bench and was typing away on his phone. He watched as Andrew placed the phone face down on the bench and waited, gun resting casually in his hand by his side. It was Nathaniel’s gun and Andrew looked so comfortable with it that he had no doubt that he knew exactly what to do with it.

  


They didn’t wait for long. A tall dark man walked stumbled into the kitchen after a few minutes and cursed loudly.

  


“Why are you asking for duct tape or zip ties? Can’t you get them yourself – “He froze at the sight of Nathaniel sitting at the table before glancing back to Andrew and going grey. “Is that a gun. What the fuck is going on, Andrew!”

  


“It’s his gun and I don’t want to leave him unsupervised.” Andrew drawls calmly. “So, go grab the shit for me, will you.”

  


“Jesus! Okay. Just try not to kill him yet.”

  


“That is up to him.”

  


The man scurried off, tripping over a rug in the hallway on his way through. Nathaniel let the silence stretch again. It was an old tactic. If you want information, don’t fill the silence! Generally, people will fill it to avoid being uncomfortable. It was never a problem he had. When talking would get you killed, silence was your saving grace. Unfortunately, Andrew seemed to have the same mentality that he did.

  


The man came back, dropping several items onto the counter and looking between the pair of them frantically. “You’re not actually gonna kill him, are you?”

  


Andrew levels an icy glare at him. “Either help me, or fuck off to bed, Nicky.”

  


Nicky shifts his weight and comes around to Andrews side where he can look over Nathaniel unobstructed.

_“He’s just a kid Andrew.”_ Nicky says in German as his expression morphs into pain. Nathaniel blinks and schools his face into something politely blank, hoping they don’t catch on to his understanding of the language. _“Did you have to hit him.”_

_“He pulled a gun on me.”_ Andrew defends, glaring at the other man.

_“Where was he?”_

_“Sleeping in the laundry.”_

  


Nicky pulls a bag of frozen peas from the freezer and slides them across the table with a re-assuring grin. Neil picks it up and moulds it to his swollen cheek without flinching. _“He’s probably homeless.”_

_“What is he doing in our house with a gun then?”_ Andrew demands.

_“What are you doing with all your knives_?” Nicky counters.

  


Nathaniel flinches. Andrew catches the movement and narrows his eyes at him. He knows that Andrew has caught on, but he tries his best to cover the reaction anyway.

  


Andrew places the gun on the counter carefully, sliding it against the duffel behind him. A clear warning that Nathaniel will have to go through him to get it. And proceeds to pull a knife out from under his sleeve in a slow and deliberate more. Keeping his face calm is an act of strong will. There is nothing to do about the increased heart rate or the colour draining from his face, no amount of will power has given him that skill. Andrew watches his face intently, documenting each change with clear interest.

  


Like a shark picking up the scent of blood in the water, Andrew moves forward taking a seat across from him at the table, twirling the blade neatly through his fingers. Nathaniel can’t help but track the movement.

  


“You have one chance.” Andrew starts, digging the tip of the blade into the table as Nicky winces. “Tell me the truth and I’ll put that shoulder back into place before sunrise. Lie, and I’ll either be killing you or kicking you out to suffer the elements with the dislocation and without the gun. Understood?”

  


The man hasn’t shown a single sign of weakness so far and Nathaniel believes that he would do exactly that if given the slightest reason. He nods slowly, making the movement clear so Andrew sees his understanding.

  


“You speak German.”

  


It isn’t really a question. Andrew knows he understood already. It’s an admission. Nathaniel nods regardless and Andrews lips twitch at the movement. Nicky takes a keener interest in the one-sided conversation now.

  


“What are you doing in our house?” Andrew asks, waving the blade through the air in warning. “Be very clear with your words.”

  


He swallows thickly before answering. “The weather caught me off guard. I was too far from shelter by the time I realised. I just wanted a spot out of the wind to crash for a few hours. This was the only house I could see that didn’t look like people were inside. The lawn is overgrown, the house was dark, it looked like the safest place to sleep for the night.”

  


Nicky chokes back a whimper and Andrew leans back to study him. It is the truth, but Nathaniel is unwilling to sell it with the scared kid act that his mother made him pull so many times. Not when he was sure that Andrew at least, was part of something bigger and badder than just defending his house from squatters.

  


“What’s your name?” Nicky asks, concern written across his face.

  


The sympathetic tone seems to set Andrew on edge and Nathaniel is sure that lying to either man would lead to nothing but bad things at this point. He can’t tell the truth. Not to strangers who carry knives and don’t blink when some-one pulls a gun on them. He stay’s silent instead, glaring at the ticking clock on the wall and blaming it for not hearing the group walk in the door while he slept.

  


“How old are you?” Nicky tries again.

  


This one he can answer. “19.”

  


“Where are your parents?” Nicky questions gently and Nathaniel bites his lip and glares at the clock. “Your mother, where is she?”

  


“Dead.”

  


“Sorry.” Nicky drops his head and scrubs his hands together. “Your father?”

  


He lets the silence stretch thin again. Anything to do with his father posed risks, not matter how small the detail. On the other hand, he was backed into a corner already and he needed a way out.

  


“Wants me dead.” Nathaniel admits, if nothing else, this will explain how he wound up homeless.

  


“See.” Andrew bares his teeth at Nicky in a shark like grin. “We’re not the only ones with complicated parent-child relations.”

  


Nicky drops his head in his hands and sighs. “Not the time Andrew.”

  


Andrew drops the grin and settles his gaze back on Nathaniel. “I’m the bad guy for killing my egg doner.” He confides. Nathaniel can see the challenge dance in his eyes. “What? No questions or comments about that?”

  


“Who gives a shit.” Nathaniel sneers. “I’d rather know who you’re working for, than why you killed Mummy.”

  


“Working for?” Nicky straightens up, eye’s wide. “Who would he be working for?”

  


Nathaniel keeps his eye’s on Andrew, however. Andrew stills at the question but doesn’t show any other reaction.

  


“Now that’s an interesting question.” Andrew states pulling a packet of cigarettes out of his pocket and lighting one as Nicky complains. “A better one is who the hell is Daddy, if you’re so worried about who I work for then he must be a real piece of work.”

  


Nathaniel curses himself for giving so much away, but the damage is already done. “You could say that.”

  


Andrew blows a lungful of smoke across the table and Nathaniel closes his eyes to inhale the scent despite himself. It had been months since he allowed himself the twisted indulgence of lighting up a cigarette on his own.

  


“I am not sure if I’m too drunk or too sober for this conversation.” Nicky admits, pulling a hand through his hair.

  


“Have I given you enough to put my shoulder back in yet?” Nathaniel asks defiantly. The pain hasn’t bothered him too much, but it is incredibly uncomfortable not to be able to use your dominant arm for prolonged periods.

  


“Jesus. Fuck!” Nicky jumps away from the table. “You dislocated his shoulder! How did I miss this?”

  


“Because you’re unobservant as fuck.” Andrew drawls. “Is that blasphemy? Will you go to hell for that?”

  


“Andrew!” Nicky admonishes.

  


“Fine!” Andrew tucks the blade away under his sleeve again and comes around the table to Nathaniel’s right side.

  


Nathaniel hardens his face as Andrew pulls his arm and tries to feel around the joint.

  


“How many layers do you have on?” Andrew growled.

  


“It’s cold outside.” Nathaniel deadpans.

  


“We need to take them off.” Andrew steps back and shots a look to Nicky. “Want to make him something to warm him up?” To Nathaniel he says, “Stand up.”

  


Nicky puts his hands on his hips and glares around the kitchen.

  


“Coffee, tea or something harder?” He asks with forced cheer, pulling a few bottles out of the cupboard.

  


Like hell Nathaniel was going to drink around these assholes, even if he was in pain. “Coffee would be nice, thanks.”

  


“How polite.” Andrew quips tugging down his zipper and pulling of the first hoodie with more force than necessary.

  


Nathaniel bites his tongue to keep back a hiss of pain. Either Andrew catches the movement, or he’s impressed by the control, Nathaniel watches a hint of amusement dance in his eye’s as he reaches for the next layer.

  


The worst ones are the jumper’s underneath that need to be lifted over his head. To his credit, Andrew helps him take it off one section at a time, leaving the dislocated arm alone as much as possible, not that either of them will mention the small mercy.

  


“You couldn’t notice the shoulder under all those layers.” Nicky comments in a strained voice as he makes the coffee. _“Andrew, he is skin and bones.”_

  


“He can understand you.” Andrew shoots a glare at him and begins running his hands over the shoulder to assess the damage. “And he is not a stray puppy.”

  


Nathaniel wants to argue that point with Nicky as well, but Andrew is twisting his arm and lining it up with the socket and it takes all his mental strength to keep his muscles lax for what comes next. The sharp pull and push snap his shoulder back into place and steals his breath. Andrews hands are holding him steady and the taste of copper invades his mouth. He wants to curse. He wants to hit back against the pain, but he settles for kicking his foot against the floor.

  


Andrew huffs a laugh in his ear and brings his arm gently across his chest where he can nurse it and guides him back to his seat. “What no thank-you?”

  


“Oh, I’m sorry.” He manages to snark as his voice shakes. “Thankyou soo much for replacing the shoulder that you dislocated!”

  


“He didn’t even flinch.” Nicky stares at him in wonder, the forgotten coffee resting in his palms. “That had to hurt, and he didn’t even flinch.”

  


“Hand the coffee over.” Andrew grabs the duffle off the counter and brings it with him to the table.

  


Nicky slides the mug over, and Nathaniel tries hopelessly to stop the shaking in his hand as he drinks. Nicky grimaces at the sight and disappears down the hallway again. Andrew barely glances at his hand, too interested in searching through the contents of his duffel. He comes up with Nathaniel’s wallet and slowly spreads the contents over the tabletop. Thoroughly examining each item as he removes it.

  


“Why didn’t you give me a name if you have ID on you?” Andrew stare bores into him over the driver’s licence in his hands.

  


“You asked for the truth or else, remember?”

  


“Neil Josten. Age 20.” Andrew raises a brow. “You said you were 19. Is everything on this a lie?”

  


He flinches when warmth envelops him from behind. He was so focused on Andrew he missed Nicky’s re-appearance with a thick blanket in hand that was now being gently tucked around him.

  


“Is this some weird, good cop, bad cop shit?” He swivels between Nicky’s look of concern and Andrews hard glare; Andrew waves the licence in front of him to gain his attention again. “Yes. That’s how fake ID’s work.”

  


“Most kids get a fake ID to buy liquor. Why go with 20?” Andrew questioned studying the ID. “It’s good work too.”

  


“I didn’t get it to buy alcohol.” Nathaniel admits. “I got it so I could finish high school without anyone calling the authorities.”

  


“Noble.”

  


“Bite me.”

  


Nathaniel watches as he counts through the money and replaces everything back in the wallet before turning his attention to the rest of his possessions. There is nothing of interest in there until he gets to the bottom, but he goes through everything meticulously. Halfway through, Nicky grumbles about the time and gets up to make breakfast.

  


He scowls when Andrew drops the box of contacts on the table. “Your eyes are blue.”

  


“No shit.”

  


“These are brown.” Andrew taps the box and waits for an explanation.

  


“I was sleeping asshole.”

  


Amusement flickers across Andrews face again. It lasts as long as is take for him to pull out Nathaniel’s binder and open it. Any and all trace of emotion disappears after that, leaving Nathaniel facing the coldest expression he had ever seen.

  


Andrew thumbs through the folder in silence, his eye’s flicking up to meet his own every few minutes. Nathaniel finds himself frozen to his seat. The folder contains all the articles he has collected over the years following the rise of the son’s of Exy. An obsession he was never able to shake. That in itself should not cause alarm in any-one. All kids have their sporting heroes after all. What sets him on edge is the money and information stored hidden between the sheets, that if deciphered would lead back to the dark underbelly his mother and he had crawled out of all those years ago.

  


Andrew hasn’t looked between the sheets yet, his cold expression holding on the news reports about Kevin Day and Riko Moriyama instead, but it’s only a matter of time.

  


“And you were so close to living.” Andrew whispers when he reaches the end of the folder. He flicks back to the beginning and pull out the contents of the first leaflet, spilling the first of his hidden stack of cash across the table. Nathaniel desperately wants to look away, but it’s like watching a car crash in slow motion. His heart is racing, and his lungs are burning, he thinks he’s forgotten how to breath.

  


Andrew sifts through the carefully bundled stacks of neat hundred-dollar bill and replaces the lot when he is done only to move onto the next hidden pocket. At last count, he had just under 200 thousand in cash and bonds on him and about 30 sheets of nonsense that contained all his contacts and co-ordinates for his cash reserves.

  


He silently thanks his mother for beating the code-breaker sequence into his head long ago. If Andrew was able to decipher the information tucked into the sheets of random letters and numbers, he would be heading to fate far worse than death. Right now, he thinks that Andrew would offer a quick, clean death if he decided to be done with him.

  


Nicky drops a few plates of eggs and bacon on the table and freezes at the latest sheets scattered in front of Andrew.

  


“Shit.”

  


“I am curious.” Andrew states. “Why there are no articles after the split of the famous duo. Couldn’t stand to see them apart, perhaps?”

  


“Maybe I got too busy to obsess over the game anymore.” Nathaniel counters. “Or maybe I just ran out of space in the folder.”

  


“You could have added more sheets.”

  


Nathaniel rolled his eyes. He didn’t need to add any more sheets. He had enough to hide his real secrets between them.

  


“Maybe you couldn’t stand to see them torn apart after Kevin left Edgar Allen. Most of their fans would do anything to drag him back there.”

  


“If Kevin knew what was good for him, he would not step foot within a hundred miles of Evermore.” He snaps without thinking, his attention on the coded sheet in Andrew’s hand.

  


“Such a fan.” Andrew drawls. “I bet you would love to get a look inside that stadium.”

  


“You couldn’t pay me enough to go back there.”

  


He realises his mistake the moment Andrew meets his gaze. His mother always told him his obsession with Exy would be the death of him. She would be rolling in her grave right now.

  


“It’s sunrise Nicky.” Andrew looks at the window where the barest glow of a new dawn shows above the houses. “Go wake up the drunk and bring him down here would you.”

  


Nicky scampers of to the front of the house this time. Nathaniel can only conclude that the drunk was the one who claimed the living room as his bedroom.

  


“One last chance to tell the truth.” Andrew warns.

  


He stays silent and listens as some-thing heavy crashes to the floor in the living room and Nicky curses in three languages. The curses volleyed back from the unknown drunk come out in French and Nathaniel almost grins at the creative insults. He listens as the two men come up behind him, but he won’t take his eye’s off Andrew to see who it is.

****

**_“I thought we weren’t allowed to bring one night stands here?”_** The drunk slurs in French.

  


“I’m not sleeping with any of them, and your accent is terrible.” Nathan blurts out. If he’s going to be sentenced to death, he’s not going to make things easy. "You'd never pass for a native."

  


“What?” Nicky asks in confusion. “Who said anything about sleeping with you?”

****

**_“My accent is fine when I’m awake.”_ **

  


“Awake or sober?” He asks as the drunk stumbles past the coffee pot.

  


Nathaniel can’t make out much about him from the back of his head. He’s tall, he would have around a foot on him and black hair paired with the, all black ensemble that they all seem to be wearing.

****

**_“You’re a little mouthy for a house guest, aren’t you?”_ **

  


“Get fucked.”

  


_“I’m a single parent of three children.”_ Nicky mumbles in Spanish. _“Dear lord what did I do to deserve this!”_

  


Nathaniel curses, he hadn’t heard anything other than English for the past seven months. Suddenly switching between four languages was hurting his head.

  


“Can we stick to the same language please!” He complains as he rubs his temples. “Aren’t you a little young for three kids?”

  


“I don’t like that word.” Andrew commands quietly.

  


“Which fucking one?” He throws his hands up in frustration. The most conversation he’d had in months and he landed in this madness.

  


_“Please.”_ Nicky helps.

  


The drunk stumbles to the table with his coffee in hand and Nathaniel curses under his breath in all four languages. There was no mistaking the man bearing the ‘II’ inked into his cheek. Kevin fucking Day. How did he manage to break into the one house in the world that housed the son of Exy himself?

  


Kevin paid him no attention at all. Switching his attention between the mug in his hands and Andrews expression as if waiting for instructions.

  


“How painful will this be for you?” Andrew taunts across from him.

  


“Excruciating.” Nathaniel sneers. “At least this answers my earlier question.”

  


At best, two phone calls would need to be placed before his father knew where he was. One to Tetsuji, one to the Butcher. At worse, Andrew was on his father’s books already. It would explain the knives.

  


Andrew hums impatiently. “Our new friend knows you Kevin. He also mentioned having been to Evermore before. Have a close look and see if you recognise him.”

  


Kevin became more alert through the explanation, now staring at Nathaniel with an intensity that would not fail to bear results. No amount of hair dye and contacts could change the clear family features on his face. And Kevin would have that resemblance burned into his memories. All that was missing was the blood dripping down his face, but then again, the swollen and bruised cheek from Andrews fist earlier probably made up for it.

  


After an age of unbearable silence, Kevin shook his head. “I don’t know him. The only thing that stands out is the eyes. They kind of look like….”

  


Kevin freezes, his eye’s locked on Nathaniel. Well, he was dead in the water anyway. “I think the alcohol has made you slow Kevin.”

  


Kevin pushes away from the table with such forces his mug tips and the remaining coffee races across the table. Andrew pulls his binder out of the way just in time to save it. Nicky races for a tea-towel to mop up the mess before it can drip to the floor, he doesn’t make it.

  


**_“You shouldn’t be here. Fuck! You shouldn’t even be in the country!”_** Kevin pulls at his hair his voice two octaves too high; Andrew sets the folder aside and pulls his blade from under his sleeve again. “ ** _Do you have any clue what kind of bounty is on your head, Nathaniel?”_**

  


Something in the millions with a specification for taking him alive, no doubt. “A nice pay day for you and your guard then?”

  


Andrew drove the blade into the table with a loud thud. “Explain. In English!”

  


“You need to leave.” Kevin whimpered. “Do you have any idea what he’ll do to you?”

  


“I know exactly what he’ll do to me!” Nathaniel growled, Andrew moved swiftly around the table, bringing the blade to his throat as the rest of the kitchen stared. “Do it!” Nathaniel urged. “It’ll be faster.”

  


“Andrew! Let him go.” Kevin demands, shaking where he stands.

  


“Explain.” Andrew demands in Nathaniel’s ear.

  


“Okay.” Kevin concedes. “Remember what I told you about Lord Kengo’s right-hand man? The Butcher?”

  


Andrew nods, keeping the blade firm against his windpipe.

  


“This is his son. Nathaniel.” Kevin explained quickly. “His mom took him and ran from them years ago, stealing a ton of cash as well. Nathaniel is not connected to them; they have a bounty on his head.”

  


The fact that he was standing in a room of people who didn’t need to specify who ‘they’ and ‘them’ actually were should have scared him shitless. But the more Kevin rambled the more Nathaniel got the impression that they weren’t working for ‘them’ either. Andrew loosened his hold on Nathaniel with the confusing explanation, understanding precisely what Kevin was attempting to say.

  


Andrew draws back the knife and keeps Nathaniel in his seat with a hand on his shoulder. “How did we end up with another raven runaway?”

  


“Just to be clear.” Nicky interjects, while Kevin gulps down a mouthful of vodka directly from the bottle. “No-one is killing the kid, right?”

  


“Not today.” Andrew assures, running his thumb over Nathaniel’s neck. “What should we do with him, Kevin.”

  


“Put him on a plane to Canada.”

  


“You’re letting me go?” Nathaniel asks as hope bubbles inside him.

  


“It’s a pity you haven’t played in years. We could have used a talent like you.” Kevin mumbles into the bottle.

  


“We’re trying to prevent murder and all you see is Exy?” Nicky glares at him. “You will never find love.”

  


Nathaniel’s mind was reeling from this emotional rollercoaster. “I played in high school.” Slips out of his mouth in his daze. “In Millport.”

  


“No.” Andrew growls above him as he drops his head onto the table.

  


“We could– “

  


“We are not adopting another Exy junkie with the Yakuza on his tail.”

  


Nathaniel shuts out their voices after that. It’s all nonsense to him now. Maybe his brain finally fried from all the running in the last nine years, but he can’t keep his eye’s open any longer.

  


-

  


There are voices around him when he wakes. He keeps his eye’s closed and focuses on his surroundings, it’s always best to know what you’ll be facing before you are confronted with it. He is surrounded by softness, not the hard pillow of the table that he remembers last. He twitches his fingers, beneath him the material is rough, a couch maybe. He is on his back, laying down with his injured arm crossed over his chest the way it should be, and a blanket thrown over top, covering him from neck to feet. It beats the hell out of the cold from the night before. Why this group of people would extend such a kindness was beyond him. He was sure he would be out on his arse without a gun or six feet under by now.

  


Three voices. Are they the same ones from last night/this morning? Yes, he can hear Kevin. His voice is clearer now, either less hungover or less stressed, perhaps both. Nicky is next, his voice is light and loud as he argues. Something about Knox. Kevin staring at Knox? Trojan groupie, Nicky calls him. Jesus are they watching Exy. Yes, Andrew just pitched in to complain about the obsession, but something seems wrong. His voice is different too, but it doesn’t quite match.

  


He blinks his eyes open slowly, peering through his lashes and placing every-one in the room. He is laying on the couch. Nicky is sprawled on the floor in front of him. Kevin is in an armchair to the side and from what he can tell without moving Andrew must be on a matching armchair on the other side of the couch where he can’t see. It is Exy. Trojans versus Jackels. The Trojans are winning by a landslide.

  


The threat seems minimal and he needs to stretch.

  


“Hey.” Nicky grins as he sits up gingerly, his muscles are stiff and sore, and he had forgotten about the throbbing in his cheek. “Sleeping beauty is finally awake.”

  


The sun is in the wrong place. Shining through the west windows now.

  


“How long was I asleep?” His voice sounds like gravel and he’s more concerned about how vulnerable he was sleeping in a house full of strangers.

  


“Over 10 hours now. Do us a favour and warn some-one before you pass out next time.”

  


“How are you feeling?” Kevin asks across from him.

  


“I’m fine.” He responds absently, his attention already claimed by Andrew.

  


There is no black clothing today. Not from any of them. It’s all blue denim jeans. Nicky is in a rainbow, tie dyed shirt and Kevin is sporting a Trojan jersey. If he had to guess he’d say it was Knoxs number on the back. Andrew is in a plain white shirt that stretches across his shoulders… and some-thing is definitely not right.

  


His shoulders are not as broad as the night before and his hands don’t look as hard and they bare no sign of having punched him the night before.

  


“Who are you?” He demands.

  


“You’re in my house,” the stranger says. “Who the fuck are you?”

  


Nathaniel glances over at Nicky and Kevin. “Where is Andrew?”

  


“Less than two fucking minutes!” Nicky laughs. “The bet was in hours. How the fuck did that happen?”

  


“Doesn’t matter.” Kevin grinned holding his hand out. “I win suckers, pay up.”

  


Nicky and the new guy both grumbled as they reached for their wallets, forking over a tenner each to Kevin who proceeded to wave it in their faces.

  


“Andrew is out the back destroying his lungs.” Kevin states as he gets up and tucks his winning away. “I’ll take you.”

  


“Where is my stuff?”

  


“In Andrew’s room…” Nathaniel waits for him to elaborate but receives a warning glare in response. “I don’t make the rules, I just follow them. If you have a problem, you need to take it up with him.”

  


Basically, his stuff was being held hostage until Andrew made the decision otherwise. Great.

  


Andrew it turns out, was still wearing all black. Today though, his clothes looked looser and more comfortable than the night before. Kevin left him at the back door with a quick heads up to Andrew who didn’t acknowledge either off them, before turning to go back towards the game. It was cold still, but the wind had dies down and there was a patch of sunlight that stretched across the back porch. Nathaniel was quick to claim a patch near Andrew and disappointed that it meant the slight breeze was whisking the smoke from Andrews cigarette away from him.

  


“I’m guessing that I’m not getting the gun back.” He starts, watching as Andrew draws on the cigarette. “They didn’t give me the name of the other guy in there.”

  


“Who won the bet?” Andrew asks.

  


“Kevin, but Nicky was disputing the validity since they had bet in hours not minutes.”

  


“When did you wake up?”

  


“About ten minutes ago.” He states. “If you give me my duffle, I’ll be out of your hair.”

  


Andrew drops the butt into an ashtray on the floor and pulls two more sticks out of his packet. Nathaniel watches as he lights them both and hands one over, looking at him for the first since he had stepped out of the house. Nathaniel takes to cigarette and draws in the first lungful of smoke, more out of habit than desire, and cups the end to protect it from the weak breeze allowing the smoke to rise around him.

  


“Kevin has some hair-brained idea about you staying and playing with us.”

  


Nathaniel shakes his head automatically. “You are not in deep with whoever you lot work for now, that much is obvious. But whatever shit you’re in, however low level, I want nothing to do with. I just want my stuff so I can leave.”

  


“What?” Andrew asks, amusement dancing in his eye’s again. “You think we’re in a gang?”

  


“Yeah.” Nathaniel says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Normal people back off when facing a gun, not dislocate my shoulder and punch me in the face. You’re in something. And like Kevin could get away with no strings attached.”

  


“Not a gang.” Andrew huffs. “We’re talking Exy, moron. Every-one here plays for Palmetto Foxes, didn’t your stalker shit teach you that about Kevin?”

  


“What?” He says dumbly, trying to makes sense of the information.

  


“Not a gang. I don’t and will never work for any-one. I just have short temper and a particular skill set and I don’t like people breaking into my home.”

  


“Okay…” He draws out, unsure where this conversation went and having no clue what to do with it now.

  


Andrew did not help. He stared at him and slowly finished his cigarette.

  


“Nicky won’t forgive me if I kick you out on Christmas eve with no where to go.” He says at last. “I’m not giving you your bag back until you leave. You’re going to stay here for a few days, eat our food, sleep on our couch and play nice with the family. Hurt them and I’ll kill you, if you survive, you get your crap and be on your way.”

  


“Why?” Nathaniel wanted to know. “Why help me, I don’t deserve it.”

  


“Do any of us?” Andrew stepped in closer, stealing the burnt-out butt from his fingers and tossing it into the tray. “You are going to come inside and have some food and a shower. In that order so you don’t pass out again. You can complain about how nice we are after that.”

  


Andrew abandoned him to Nicky’s fussing but stayed in the same room as him for the rest of the day. The unspoken words rang out loud and clear. He would be allowed to stay, to eat and sleep in relative safety, but he was not trusted and the moment he crossed a line, Andrew would be there, blade in hand, to put down the threat. He had been fed, showered and dressed in Andrews clothes. He was not allowed access to his own things and from the brief glimpse he got as Andrew handed the clothes over through the bathroom door, Andrew kept his bedroom locked at all times and Nathaniel cursed himself for putting the lockpicks away in his duffle. Andrews clothes were thicker and warmer than anything he owned, so he wouldn’t complain about the hospitality at least.

  


Nathaniel spends the night in the kitchen with Nicky, trying to earn his keep by helping with the food prep. Nicky seems set on having a big Christmas dinner filled with all the traditional food from starters to desert and has no issue in putting Nathaniel to work helping him. Andrew perches himself on the table and spends the hours watching them as he down glass after glass of eggnog with increasingly high contents of alcohol poured in.

  


Despite Andrews constant vigilance, Nathaniel finds that he is enjoying himself, chopping and dicing any thing pushed in his direction, stirring and watching as Nicky tells him to. It’s calming. He doesn’t actually know what the hell he is helping with but being part of the process is nice. When Nicky is happy with what they’ve managed to create, Nathaniel sends him to join the other playing video games in the living room and cleans up the kitchen by himself. There are too many dishes for the dishwasher to handle so he bypasses it and washes the lot by hand.

  


“This won’t help you shoulder heal.” Andrew states, watching him from the table. Nathaniel had almost forgotten that he was there.

  


“I’m fine. I’ve had a lot worse than a dislocated shoulder.” Pain was normal for him at this point and it hadn’t been bothering him as long as he doesn’t lift his arm above the shoulder.

  


“Have you always been so eager to destroy yourself?”

  


Nathaniel threw the cloth back in the sink and braced his hands on the counter. He felt more than heard Andrew walk up behind him and he counted to 10 in three different languages.

  


“I have been living on borrowed time since I was 10.” He breathes slowly, clenching and unclenching his jaw. “I only have one fate. Death. Today, tomorrow or five years from now. Damage is nothing new to me and it certainly is not a reason to slow down.”

  


Andrew is so close that Nathaniel can feel the heat of his body on his back.

  


“Why bother running then? Why not just end it?” He asks quietly in his ear.

  


Nathaniel straightens and glares out the window. “I don’t want to die. What other choice do I have?”

  


“Change the script then.” The urgency in his voice takes Nathaniel by surprise. “Come on,” Andrew tugs on the hem of his borrowed hoodie. “Even dish hands get smoke breaks.”

  


Nathaniel chuckled under his breath and followed him out the back door.

  


Andrew handed him a cigarette unlit this time. He rolled it between his fingers as Andrew watched him steadily in the weak light that spilled out from the door. They could barely hear the ruckus the others were kicking up in living room from here. A bubble of calm from the tension of the day.

  


Andrew stepped up in front of him, raising the lighter and flicking it into life between them. At this distance he could lose himself in the pools of liquid gold that were Andrews eyes. It wasn’t a realisation that he cared to have, but after the past day he figured he was entitled to his own moments of insanity. The challenge in Andrews eye as he watched him over the flame, made him smirk. Nathaniel placed the cigarette between his lips and leant in to light it, Andrew met him at the flame with his own, drawing in the first lungful together. As he leant back, and the lighter was extinguished, he swore he saw the ghost of a smile on Andrews face.

  


He cupped the cigarette in his hands, breathing in the tendrils of smoke that curled up around his face.

  


“Why not just smoke it?” Andrew wanted to know, leaning on the wall and watching him.

  


“It’s not the nicotine I’m after.” He admitted, closing his eye’s and seeing the burning car with his mother inside. “I smelt like smoke for a week after my mum died. Could not get rid of the smell, no matter what I did. This helps clear my head. Reminds me that I’m still alive, still moving… He hasn’t won yet.”

  


“So, you live on defiance, rather than purpose.”

  


He hadn’t looked at it that way. “My survival is about as defiant as it gets. I don’t have much else.”

  


“Change the script.” Andrew repeated, stepping forward and closing the gap between them. “I’ll help you.”

  


Nathaniel wasn’t sure what he meant by that, too taken aback by the lack of distance between them now as Andrew took a slow drag. He dropped his hands, letting the cigarette dangle from his fingers by his side, to avoid touching Andrew and give him the illusion of having more space. Andrew tugged on the neck of his borrowed hoodie and blew down, expelling a lungful of smoke between his hoodie and shirt. He closed his eye’s, breathing in the scent as the smoke billowed up around him.

  


“There is more than one way to solve a problem.” Andrew spoke slowly when he met his eye again.

  


Nathaniel watched as he drew in another lungful. “What are you suggesting?”

  


Andrew dropped his head, his hair tickling his cheek, and repeated his action with the smoke. Nathaniel was no longer sure if it was the smoke or the proximity that was making his head spin. Andrews breath against his chest was sending shivers down his spine.

  


“If your life is already forfeit, do something with it that will damage them if you die.” He stepped back half a pace, eyeing the dying ember of his cigarette. “Do not go quietly into the night without a fuss. Stand up. Make a scene and force people to pay attention.

Make sure your death will cause just as much, if not more problems for them, than your life has.”

  


Andrew tossed his butt away and stole the forgotten cigarette from his fingers. Claiming the last draw from it before discarding it as well. This time when Andrew stepped closer, hooking a finger into the neck of his hoodie, he tilted his head, bearing his neck and allowing Andrew to get closer. The faint growl that slipped Andrew mouth as he expelled the smoke was far more pleasant than it had any right to be.

  


“Change the script…” He picked up the neck of his hoodie to inhale the scent now trapped in his clothes. Andrew hummed in annoyance, his eye’s glued to a spot a the base of his neck. Nathaniel turned the possibilities over in his head and followed Andrew back inside.

  


-

  


Christmas Day and Nathaniel is very much the outsider in the house. Andrew has stopped following him around the house now. Allowing him to roam without being monitored and he no longer wishes for it. He could find something to pick Andrews door with but he no longer wants to. He doesn’t want to run. He wants what Kevin has in this house, a home, a family, a future beyond what they were forced to live as children.

  


Nathaniel finds himself increasingly distracted by Andrew as the days progress. He doesn’t seek Nathaniel out anymore. Though Nathaniel find his eyes flicking towards him every now and again. His mothers words play in his head on an endless loop. Connections are bad. Relationships are a death sentence. And yet, he finds himself wishing for another moment where Andrew was standing with less than an inch between their bodies. Close enough to feel the heat radiating through his clothes. Close enough to lean in and do something stupid and reckless, that his mother would have beaten him to an inch of his life for even thinking about.

  


He didn’t pretend to know where these thoughts were coming from. He didn’t want to know. What he did know, was the more time he spent around this family, around Andrew, the more he wanted something he could never have.

  


Boxing Day and Kevin had become obsessed with the idea of him joining there Exy team at Palmetto, to the point of bringing his old games at Millport up and watching them on the massive tv in the living room. Searching through his plays and loudly correcting his stance and footwork. It took three hours of yelling at him before it registered that Nathaniel had been holding back his performance to be able to play un-noticed. He knew what mistakes he had made. His attention at the time had been to ensure that he did not outshine his teammates. He would never be able to play again, he didn’t want to jeopardise their chances of being scouted by showing them up.

  


This is how he spent an entire day going over previous games of both his and the foxes with Kevin. Taking notes and suggesting improvements and training regimes to pick-up the short comings of different players. Nathaniel faltered in explaining his analysis three separate times throughout the day when Andrew stopped in the doorway to check on them before wandering off again. Even Kevin picked up on his inattention, cursing him out in Japanese, which it turns out, is the only language in the house that he didn’t understand. That didn’t matter any-way because Kevin was the only one who spoke it. He responded very simply with his middle finger when that happened.

  


Three days later, in the middle of binge watching the new series for Umbrella Academy, the whole house fell into silence at the sound of the doorbell. The looks of shock and concern written across their faces told Nathaniel that guests did not show up to this house uninvited. Andrew stood in the quiet, raising a single finger in warning for the rest of them to stay put and quiet. The show ran on, but every-one held their breath as Andrew disappeared towards the front door.

  


Nathaniel got up, crossing the room silently and pressing himself to the wall where he could hear the interaction at the door without being seen. Nicky and Kevin were making quick and cutting actions at his movement, but neither were willing to break the silence to speak out about it. From where he stood he could make out the feminine voice of some-one preaching about the lost mother and child in the area and a father who was wrought with despair at their disappearance. He could tell without seeing the face that the words held nothing but lies.

  


Andrew, calm and collected as ever, pointed them in the direction of a local drug hangout. Spinning the story of his wayward brother that he had to retrieve from the situation in the past. The visitor thanked him repeatedly before turning away again.

  


Nathaniel waited until he was sure she had gone, and Andrew wasn’t about to come back in, before venturing down the hall to the door.

  


“What was it about?” He asks Andrew back quietly, from the shadow of the door.

  


Andrew glances back at him and freezes.

  


“No contacts.” He murmurs as he steps up to him, wrapping a hand around the back of his neck and pulling his face down to meet his gaze. “Keep your head down and your eye’s on me.”

  


Nathaniel mouth has gone dry and he manages a short nod. Andrew breath caressing his face has his heart racing.

  


“They are here for you, and they’re knocking on every door.”

  


“Shit.” He says going stiff under Andrews touch. Andrew’s hand slides up into his hair, tugging gently until he relaxes again.

  


“Eye’s on me.” He reminds him. They are so close, anyone looking across the street at them would think they were kissing. “Do not look up.”

  


Nathaniel tilts his head slightly, hiding his face further from the street and bringing their faces together in a way that he would just have to lean in to kiss him now. “What did they say?”

  


Andrews thumb brushes lightly over the bruise on his cheek and comes to rest at the edge of his mouth. “Not like this,” He breathes. “Come inside and we’ll work through it.”

  


Andrew pushed him through the doorway first, keeping him shielded from the street as much as possible. With the door securely locked behind them, Andrew grabbed the edge of his sleeve and pulled him back to the kitchen, bypassing the curious looks in the living room.

  


Andrew gave him the run down of the spiel he had been given, detailing the three people who were knocking on doors throughout the neighbourhood and how far they had looked so far. Pedalling the story of a drug addict mother running of with their 16-year-old son and the father left behind trying desperately to find them and bring them home safely.

  


It explained how these people managed to find him so quickly over the years if they were getting hints of their whereabouts and then sending lower level members to do the foot work. Who wouldn’t want to help locate a respectable man’s wife and son? Nathaniel ran his hand through his hair, thinking of how he was going to get out of there without being caught by the bastards again. He needed his gun back.

  


Andrew bought a bottle of vodka and a set of glasses to the table as he thought. “We’ll figure this out.”

  


“We?” He asked incredulously. “These are not people you want to mess with Andrew.”

  


“Of course they are, why else would I take Kevin in?” Andrew stated pouring a decent hit into each glass and sliding one across to him. “Change the script Nathaniel. You do not have to do this alone.”

  


“I hate that name.” He admitted, staring at the vodka and wanting more than anything to believe Andrews words.

  


“What name would you prefer?”

  


He downed a mouthful of the burning liquid before he could think better of it. “Neil.”

  


“Alright, Neil.” Andrew nodded, amusement flickering across his face. “The whole place will be looking for your face for the next few days until this dies down. Will you stick around and work out a plan with me until then. You can decide if you want to stay or go after that.”

  


A few more days of relative safety? Tucked away with these strange men that took him in and shielded him from others without thinking, was something he could afford to risk. “Okay, I can do that.”

  


He turned down the vodka after dinner. Nothing good would come of getting drunk with his father’s people scouring the town for him. He hoped he had covered his tracks well enough on the way through, that they would give up and move on soon.

  


Andrew gave the other the rundown of what was happening after dinner and he watched as they drank themselves stupid over the conceivable threat. Andrew sipped at his drink occasionally but not enough to impair himself like they did. Nicky was the first to stumble off, followed soon after by Aaron while Kevin slid sideways on the couch and claimed it as his for the night. Andrew cleared away the glasses and Neil picked up the half empty bottles and followed him to the kitchen.

  


The ticking off the clock grew louder as he stood back and watched Andrew clean up. Reminding him of the deadline that hung over his head. He didn’t know when it was counting down to, just that it was always counting down, and it was louder today than it had been in months.

  


Andrew tossed aside the tea-towel and turned to face him. In that moment, he was the most beautiful person Neil had ever seen. An impossible dream that he wanted to reach out and touch. It was funny, he had never really thought about anyone in that way before. He could see that some people were objectively attractive, but he had never been attracted. This habit of losing himself while looking at Andrew was new. Stranger yet, he had no desire to look at the twin brother. You would think that he would find both attractive, but he didn’t.

  


He came back to his senses when Andrew stepped in front of him, close enough to smell the unique scent cologne and smoke that he carried with him. He was looking at him like he could hear every thought going through his head. Maybe he could.

  


Andrew used a finger to gesture between them. “Yes or no?”  
  


“Yes.” He breathed; he didn’t know exactly what Andrew intended but he would say yes to anything with him.

  


“Hands to yourself.” He warned quietly and Neil was quick to tuck his hands behind his back.

  


Andrew wrapped a hand around the back of his neck and pulled him down into a harsh kiss. He opened his mouth eagerly, losing his thoughts in the taste of vodka still burning on his tongue. A moan escaped him when Andrew hands slipped under shirt, skimming his ruined skin and brushing over his nipples. He was pushed back into a wall as a reward.

  


He had to slide his hands out from behind him and brace them on the wall with Andrew pressing his body against him. Heat consumed him. Andrews hands roaming every inch that his body wasn’t already pressed against while he took him apart with his mouth. Neil was sure he would never feel cold again.

  


Andrew pulled away from the wall, sliding his hand down his arm and grabbing his wrist.

  


“Be quiet.” He mumbled against his lips. “And follow me.”

  


Neil didn’t have to be told twice, following closely behind him up the stairs, his wrist still firmly in Andrews possession. Andrew paused at his door. Across the hall heavy based music was playing behind another closed door that he assumed was Aarons room. Andrew seemed satisfied with whatever he was listening for and unlocked his door swiftly, pulling him inside with a yank on his wrist and closing the door behind them.

  


Moonlight filtered in through the window, illuminating the room just enough that he could make out the bed, desk and Andrew. Without the glaring light from the kitchen, each touch felt electrified. Sending shivers running along his skin with each brush of Andrews body.

  


Andrew crowded him up against the desk, sliding in-between his legs and trailing his hands down to meet his own. He pulled them up beside his face and bit his lip.

  


“Shoulders and up, only.” He growled, keeping a firm grip on his hands. “If you can’t follow the rules, we end this now.”

  


Neil stretched his fingers out to brush the softness of his hair in awe. “Okay.”

  


Andrew watched him carefully in the dim light. Lessening his grip slowly and allowing Neil to tangle his hands in his hair and trace his cheekbones down to his mouth.

  


When Andrew dropped his hands completely, resting them on the tops of his thighs, Neil breathed out, “Kiss me…”

  


Andrew used the belt loops on his pants to pull their bodies flush together and took control of his mouth. Any taste of vodka had been burned away, leaving something uniquely Andrew with a comforting hint of smoke. It left him dizzy and wanting. He couldn’t even object when Andrew pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it across the room. Andrews joined it shortly afterwards and he moaned at the sight, earning him a flick on the forehead before being kissed again.

  


Neil cursed when Andrew wrapped his legs around his back and picked him up, dumping him unceremoniously on the bed across the room and peeling his pants down his legs. His heart hammered against his rib cage, seeing Andrew standing over him shirtless and eye’s roaming over his naked form. He worked his way up his body, nipping at his skin and mapping him out with his hands, leaving Neil wrecked in anticipation. From the look on Andrews face, he was enjoying the sweet torture.

  


Andrew wrapped a hand around him; Neil would have dissolved into a babbling mess if he hadn’t claimed his mouth in the same move. Each moan was swallowed up in the kiss as Andrew worked him. Neil went blind as he was pushed over the edge. Cursing weakly as his body went lax with Andrew still hovering over him running open mouthed kisses from his jaw to his collarbone and back.

  


Neil tugged him up by the hair, to claim his mouth again. Andrew dropped his head to his shoulder, breathing hard, and Neil kissed his way down the side of his neck. Andrew gasped and shuddered when his teeth brushed the skin. Neil did it again. Searching out the spots that caused his breath to hitch. One spot on the underside of his jaw had Andrew cursing under his breath and tilting his head back. When Neil kissed it a second time, Andrew shuddered, and hot liquid spilled over his stomach for the second time.

  


Andrew collapsed on him, face buried in his neck, using his elbows to keep from putting his entire weight on him and Neil peppered his skin with light kisses, stroking his hair softly. The overwhelming feeling of satisfaction and contentment had Neil wishing that they could stay like this. A quiet room, moonlight spilling through the window, the faint sound of music across the hall and Andrews slow and steady breath on his neck. It felt like a dream, one his imagination would never have been able to create.

  


Too soon Andrew was pushing up and away, ghosting a kiss along his jaw as he went.

  


“Stay.” He commanded quietly as he straightened his pants turned to leave.

  


Neil watched his back in fascination. From the endless muscles shifting as he moved to the way his pants clung to the lines of his body. Something heavy and warm settled in his chest at the sight.

  


He stretched out on the bed when the door was shut behind Andrew, careful not to shift the sticky mess across him and stared at the ceiling. Replaying everything in his head. He didn’t really know what to make of Andrew. There was something confronting and defining about how he approached things. He was quick and easy with violence when he felt it was warranted, but calm and careful with the people around him when he was sure there was no threat, and he never relaxed, not fully. He was always on the watch for what would come next. Doing laps around the house periodically throughout the day despite the others feeling perfectly safe here.

  


It reminded him a bit too much of his own behaviour when he could feel his fathers people closing in. Always searching for an exit. Keeping track of everything in the room that could be used as a weapon. But. He couldn’t see the threat Andrew was looking for, other than his fathers people, and they would leave the others alone and focus on him when the time came. Nine years of searching and they were getting desperate to show their boss some results.

  


Whatever the cause was, Andrew stood out. And Neil couldn’t get the man out of his head. It was stupid and dangerous. He knew all to well that he would be moving on soon, getting attached to anyone would end badly. But he had the strong need to grasp anything Andrew would offer and revel in it while it lasted. Regret would follow him the rest of his life if he didn’t.

  


Andrew came back what seemed like an hour later, tossing a warm face washer on his stomach, which Neil gladly used to clean himself up. When he asked what to do with the cloth, Andrew plucked it out of his hand and tossed it into a laundry basket next to the desk and throwing him a pair of sweat pants in return. Neil took the hint and pulled them on, searching the room for his shirt as Andrew climbed into the bed next to the wall.

  


“Leave it off.”

  


“What?”

  


“The shirt,” Andrew stated quietly. “Leave it off and get in.”

  


Neil stared at him spread out under the covers, propped up on his elbow still shitless and armbands in place. Neil bit his lip and crawled into bed slowly, giving Andrew time to reconsider, he had expected to be kicked out to the couch again. This was much better. He pulled the blanket around him and stared at Andrew settling on the pillow beside him.

  


“Stop it.” Andrew ordered, closing his eyes. “Go to sleep.”

  


Neil grinned at the ceiling and did just that.

  


Andrew passes him a lit cigarette in exchange for the coffee Neil made him, while he claims a seat on the back porch. He has been ignoring him for most of the day, mostly Neil assumes that he doesn’t want the others to figure out that something had happened between them. It would be strange to have to explain why you would sleep with the guy who broke into your house. So when he told him to make coffee and come out with him, Neil jumped at it.

  


“I didn’t think you would still be here this morning.” Andrew says calmly, sipping his monstrosity of a coffee.

  


Neil blinks at him. “Why?”

  


Andrew glances at the back door. “I thought you would search out your things and disappear into the night.”

  


Three days ago he would have done exactly that. He didn’t bother to deny it.

  


“You asked me to give you a few days to come up with a plan, right?” Neil clarified.

  


“I won’t lose anything by seeing what you came up with. Hell, it might just get the heat of my back for a while.”

  


Andrew watched him as he alternated between his coffee and his cigarette. “That’s not the only reason you stayed.”

  


Neil fixed his stare on the trees that ran along the back fence of the yard and cleared his throat. “No.”

  


Out of the corner of his eye, Andrew nods.

  


“Everyone wants to go to Edens for New Years.” Andrew started. “I don’t want to go out if there are people looking for us, so, we have two days to deal with this threat.”

  


Neil discards the now burnt out cigarette in his hand. “Does that mean you have a plan?”

  


“It’ll get a bit messy, but it should buy you some breathing space. Something tells me you’re not opposed to dropping a few bodies where needed.”

  


Neil shrugs. It wouldn’t be the first time and likely won’t be the last.

  


“Tell me about it.”

  


They spent the rest of the day going over maps in the garage, with Andrew stepping him through his idea. They argue tactics and variables quietly for hours. Andrew won’t bring his family in on it and risk them being injured. It’s just the two of them, the others get the picture and leave them to their planning in peace.

  


By midnight, Neil is feeling confident with it. Andrew is knowledgeable and prepared in his planning and ruthless in his execution. It will be bloody, and it still carries risks. But if they can pull this off? His father’s people will lose him in the madness, and they won’t be able to pick up his trail again until it’s ice cold.

  


When they emerge into the main house again, Kevin, Aaron and Nicky have all passed out in the living room with a video game paused on screen and a bottle of vodka and rum laying on the floor.

  


“Have you considered that they’re all alcoholics?” Neil shakes his head. Nicky still has a hand stuck inside a bag of chips in his lap.

  


“Only on weekends and holidays.” Andrew admitted. “The alcohol I can live with as long as they stay off the hard drugs. We’ve spent too long getting everyone clean.”

  


“You’re not worried that the alcohol will take them back there?”

  


“They don’t use anything that I don’t approve first.” Andrew says clearly. There’s a finality about his tone that tells Neil that this has been something that he has enforced harshly. He doesn’t ask any more about it.

  


Andrews fingers curling around his wrist bring his attention back to the man in question.

  


“Yes or no?” He asks with the same intonation as the last night.

  


“Yes.”

  


Andrew slide his hand from the wrist and into his own, tangling their fingers together before tugging him along. Something bubbled in his chest making him feel lighter, as he followed Andrew up to his room.

  


“Don’t look at me like that.” Andrew growled as he shut the door behind them.

  


“Sorry.” Neil grinned, unapologetically.

  


“I don’t know why I bother with you.”

  


“It’s really not the best idea, you know.” Neil replied seriously as Andrew pushed him back towards the bed.

  


“Do you want to stop?”

  


“No.” Neil says quickly. “I said it’s not the best idea for you to get involved with me. Not that I don’t want to.”

  


Andrew gave him a shove sending him sprawling back on the bed.

  


“We are not involved.” Andrew crawls on top of him, nipping at his jaw. “This means nothing.” Neil’s breath hitches as Andrews thigh brushes his crotch. “You are nothing.”

  


Andrew kisses him deeply, breathlessly, and Neil has trouble believing anything that he’s said. “Then what do you want from me?”

  


Andrew punctuates his next words with biting kisses along his neck. “I. Want. Nothing!”

  


Neil bites back a groan and brings his hands up to hover beside his face. “Can I?”

  


“Same rules apply.” Andrew stares at his palm before gently pressing his face to it.

  


He uses his fingertips to trace Andrews faces. Marvelling in the softness of his lips as they part beneath his touch. For a man who was all hard lines and strength laid over strength, he was surprisingly gentle and sweet when you peeled the layers back. Something he only let show when they were alone, and Neil loved it.

  


Andrew took him apart slowly. Peeling their clothes off and using his mouth to tease moans from him. Neil loses himself in the slide of Andrews lips, against his mouth, his scars, his hips. The glint in Andrews eye when he surfaces to kiss him again, says that he is enjoying every moment of it. He’s pretty sure he curses him for that, but it gets lost in a moan as Andrews hand wraps around him.

  


Andrew alternates the pace from slow to fast and back again. Swallowing the sounds dripping from his mouth in hot kisses. Neil retaliates by moving his mouth to his neck. Planting open mouthed kisses, running his teeth along the skin and moaning Andrews name shamelessly in his ear. Delighting in the shivers that race through him.

  


Andrew sends him over the edge, growling in his ear and follows him before he manages to piece together a coherent thought again.

  


“You are infuriating!” Andrew accuses, collapsing half on top of him and using his shoulder as a pillow.

  


“You could tell me to leave.” He smirks at him.

  


“You are not going anywhere.”

  


It’s not true, but Neil wants to believe it. He cards his fingers through Andrews hair and presses a kiss to his forehead in response.

  


Tomorrow they would put Andrews plan into action. Worst case, he would be dead by the end of the day. Best case, he would be making plans to leave Andrew behind, possible hoping over to Europe again. Either way, he was going to enjoy these last quiet hours beside him.

  


Andrews blueprints had been impossibly accurate. How he had managed to draw that from memory was beyond him. Everything was detailed down to each shops layout and opening hours.

  


He was back in his own clothes for the first time in almost a week. His duffle slung over his shoulder, minus his binder and contacts, he didn’t need those to take a stray bullet if he could help it. Below his grey hoodie he wore a spare set of Andrews armbands, complete with sharp shiny knives and his gun tucked into the waistband of his jeans. At Andrews suggestion, he left his contacts out as well. The idea was to be recognised as quickly as possible.

  


He wondered the mall slowly. Taking his time to check out the window displays and duck into a few shops. Andrew had already left to set up the rest of it. His mothers voice whispered in his head that this was a bad idea, that Andrew would double cross him. An idea he quickly scrubbed from his mind. If Andrew wanted him dead, he could have turned him out, turned him over or simply killed him himself, long ago.

  


He caught sight of a few people canvassing the shops further down, flyers in hand. If he had to bet, these were likely the same people that had knocked on the door days ago. They wore nice respectful clothes and carried themselves with a hardened air of self-certainty that only came with violence.

  


This is what he was here for, he reminded himself as his heart raced. He needed them to see him. Needed to get close enough for them to be sure. To be certain that they would follow him. He looked straight at them before ducking into the nearest shop.

  


The Tobacco Shop offered a range of interesting products that caught his eye as he waited for the low level gang members to catch up. He made several purchases on a whim, hoping he would live long enough to share them with Andrew.

  


He tucked them inside his duffle as he left. They were closer now and as he glanced over three of them froze. There was no getting out of this now. They definitely recognised him and now they were struggling with the problem of how to get him out of there without raising suspicion with the other patrons. Neil solved this problem for them by strolling quickly to the nearest fire exit and disappearing from sight.

  


There were shouts behind him as he flung himself down the stairwell. Some-one didn’t get the memo about being subtle, did they? His father needed to train his people better if they were getting this sloppy. He toyed with the idea of pulling the alarm as he raced past, but he needed the cops elsewhere today.

  


He hit the alley at a dead sprint. Sticking to narrow alleys that paralleled the roads. He needed them to be able to stick with him without catching him. A quick glance down the road as he cut across to the next alley and sure enough, an ominous black SUV was trawling through the street, speeding up as they spotted him.

  


He spotted the industrial sheds and picked up his pace. This was the most exposed part of the plan. On foot being chased by cars over flat open land. He mentally crossed his fingers and hoped they would keep the gunfire until later. The car was almost on him as he slid through the fresh hole in the chain linked fence. Thankyou Andrew!

  


That short cut bought him and extra 30 seconds as they drove around to find the entrance. He spotted Andrews car parked in the shadows of one of the sheds, making a note of where to find it and ducked into the side door of a run down blue warehouse.

  


Inside was everything you would expect to find from a makeshift homeless shelter. Industrial barrels scattered throughout, still smouldering from the fires lit inside hours before. Worn and dirty blankets left in piles along the walls. Neil hoped Andrew had cleared out any innocent bystanders to this. He flattened himself to the walls, creeping through the shadows and making his way to the small alcove under the mental stairs that lead to what was once the office floor for the building.

  


He could hear the voices upstairs shouting in frustration and pulled out his gun, clicking the safety off and searching for signs of Andrew.

  


Five people poured through the side door he had used. Guns raised and sweeping the space as they went. Neil watched from the shadows as all five guns quickly turned on the offices upstairs. Sharp foot steps on the metal walkway caught their attention.

  


“You are in the wrong place.” A sharp voice rang out above him.

  


The leader on the floor stepped forward, her movements sure and angry. “And you’re harbouring the wrong kid. We had a deal, Clifford.”

  


“And I held my end. You got to scour my city unhindered and you leave my business alone!”

  


Clicking above him. Clifford’s friends were pulling out their guns now. He couldn’t tell how many, but he had a feeling his father’s people were outnumbered here, not that they backed down. He raised his own gun and took careful aim.

  


“Where is the boy!” She demanded.

  


Neil squeezed the trigger.

  


The shot reverberated around the warehouse as she dropped to the floor, the men behind her sporting freshly painted red clothes. The retaliation was quick and brutal. All four guns raining bullets through the gathering upstairs and the return fire only caught two off them.

  


Neil pulled the trigger twice more before he waited for the air to clear. All his fathers people were down. Upstairs he could hear the groans from those injured but not dead. A flash of blond hair from the cat walk made him smile.

  


He crawled out of his hiding place, sweeping over the bodies to ensure there where no signs of life as several dull thuds sounded above him. He skirted the blood spatter and waited at the back door.

  


Andrew bounced down the stairs, wiping the bloody knife clean on a confiscated tie. Neil grinned as he tossed it aside, stashing the blade away and pulling the gloves off.

  


“Come on then.” He ordered heading past him through the door without touching anything.

  


Neil jogged out to the car behind him and slid into the passenger seat.

  


“You just started a gang war!”

  


Andrew glances over at him as they peel out of the yard. “Fucker shouldn’t have dealt to my brother.”

  


Neil laughs whole-heartedly. The stress from the past few days dispersing as Andrew takes the backroads home.

  


They both shower when they get there. Tossing their clothes, and dressing in Andrews clean clothes again. Aaron and Kevin are consumed in their video game, not acknowledging them as they pass by. Nicky levels them with a look equal parts worried and disapproving but he doesn’t say anything as they he to the garage to clean and detail the car.

  


Andrew presses him up against the car, kissing him greedily when they’re done. Neil gives the kiss everything he has. There aren’t enough words in 100 languages for him to described how grateful he was for meeting this man. For everything Andrew had done and given him while he was here. He hoped that he would be able to taste it in the kiss.

  


“You’re coming to New Years.” It comes out as a statement, but it sounds like a question. New years eve is tomorrow. He could stay another night or two, right? He didn’t need to leave right this minute.

  


“Do you want me to?” He asks hopefully.

  


“Yes.”

  


So much for the man who wants nothing, Neil thinks. “Then yes.”

  


None of them go to bed that night. They sit around the living room, passing around pizza boxes and various alcohol bottles. Even Neil joins in the drinking as the watch the breaking news unfold on tv.

  


It’s been running since early evening. Footage of the warehouse taped off and guarded by police. Ambulances taking away black body bags as detectives drink coffee and politely tell the cameras to fuck off. ‘Drug dealers slain in gang warfare’ is the caption that scrolls past the bottom of the screen on loop. The mention the possibility of someone leaving the scene alive but make no mention as to who that might be or where they might have gone.

  


Some politician is being questioned over rising gang violence in the state. He umms and ahs his way through a speech about this being a one off occurrence and how crime rates have been going down during his term, no 11 bodies of known drug dealers does not change the statistics!

  


Nicky and Kevin venture a few short comments about not getting caught. Otherwise they sit in silence. It’s a strange show of solidarity, falling asleep in the living room over pizza and vodka, he might be beginning to understand why this group works the way they do.

  


The ass crack of dawn and Neil is startled awake by a pounding on the front door. Across the room, Andrew is on his feet, knife in hand. Neil gets to his feet slowly and follows him out to the hallway. The pounding continues.

  


“I have coffee and doughnuts, assholes!” A voice booms through the door. “Open up!”

  


“We’re fine.” Andrew says rolling his eye’s and heading for the door.

  


Nicky and Aaron stir at the announcements of doughnuts and Kevin continues to snore on the floor. Andrew throws the door open and brandishes the knife at a man twice his height and width standing in the door balancing a full tray of large coffee cups and several boxes doughnuts.

  


“What the fuck do you want?”

  


The man in the doorway just glares at him, unimpressed with the knife pointed at him. “Kevin called. Let me in.”

  


Andrew stepped aside to let him in, slamming the door shut behind and locking it as the man came to a stop staring at him.

  


“Who’s the kid?”

  


Neil glared up at him defiantly. “Who the fuck are you?”

  


“Coffee!” Andrew declares ushering them through to the kitchen before to the living room and waking the others up.

  


“I didn’t get you coffee.” The man states, dropping the food and coffee onto the table.

  


Neil head to the coffee pot and starts brewing his own without comment. Aaron stumbles in first, claiming the cup that the man holds out to him and drops into a chair still half asleep. Nicky wanders in next, throwing an arm around the man only to be shoved off a moment later.

  


“I know you love me, Coach.” Nicky mumbles claiming the next cup.

  


Well that explained who this guy was, but not why the hell he was here. Andrew tows Kevin into the kitchen, shoving him into a seat before claiming his own sugary monstrosity as Neil makes his own.

  


“Explain.” Andrew demands glaring at both Kevin and their Coach.

  


Kevin runs a hand through his hair and downs half his coffee with a grimace while Coach eye’s him curiously.

  


“I told you.” Kevin grumbles into his cup. “Nate should stay. I thought that was why you did all that.” He gestures vaguely.

  


“How about we start with introductions?” Coach begin, looking at Neil. “I’m David Wymack, coach of the Palmetto state Foxes.”

  


Neil jumps up to sit on the counter and glare at the man. “Neil Josten. Squatter.”

  


Nicky giggles and Wymack smacks the back of his head to shut him up.

  


“What happened to your face?”

  


Neil runs a hand over the bruise on his cheek absently. “Andrew.”

  


“Minyard?”

  


“He pulled a gun on me.” Andrew defends, not for the first time.

  


Wymack stares at him as Nicky dissolves into laughter.

  


“He woke me up.” Neil explains, taking a sip of his coffee.

  


“You called because you found a squatter?” He asks incredulously. “I thought Andrew would be able to take care of that.”

  


“I called because we found another player!” Kevin argues with a bit of life now that he’s downed his coffee. “Nate is three times better than our newbies and has the potential for court!”

  


Wymack is looking at him with renewed enthusiasm and Neil wants to slap Kevin for the misplaced compliment.

  


“I haven’t played in over a year Kevin.” He growls. “And you know better than anyone why I shouldn’t.”

  


“You and Andrew took care of-“

  


“Temporarily!” Neil shouts, tossing his mug into the sink. He closes his eye’s and counts to ten in three languages before he tries again. “It’s been nine years, Kevin. They always come back. Me staying would only put every-one here in danger. You know this.”

  


You could hear a pin drop in the silence that followed. Andrew breaks it uncaringly, flipping open the doughnut boxes and claiming something ridiculously sugary.

  


“Some-one want to fill me in?” Coach asks again.

  


Kevin sighs and picks out a plain doughnut. “Nate was scouted by Tetsuji when he was ten. We played together quiet a few times back then. He has more talent on the court than Riko or Jean ever did.”

  


“Why didn’t Tetsuji get him?”

  


“His Mom freaked out. Stole a few mill and ran with him before the deal could be finalised. His Dad…”

  


His Dad… Liked to chop people up into tiny pieces in front of children. Viewed anything other than complete submission as an act of defiance.

  


“Well.” Neil drawled angrily. “Don’t stop now Kevin. Tell them the rest.”

  


Kevin tipped his cup upside down. Making a show out of sucking up the last drop of caffeine and searched the table futilely for more.

  


“His Dad… Is Kengo’s right hand man. The Butcher of Baltimore.” Kevin huffed a bitter laugh. “And he would like nothing more than to have Nate on a chopping block for his embarrassment from the failed deal.”

  


“Get really brave.” Neil suggested, hopping off the counter. “And tell them what happens when he brings the axe out.”

  


Kevin blanched. Neil ignored him and walked down the hall to the back door. He heard Kevin scurry to the sink in time to throw up noisily before he stepped out of the house.

  


“Thought I told you to change the script.” Andrew steps out after him a few minutes later.

  


Neil glanced over and got caught in the way the sun created a halo out of his hair. He realised stupidly that the only reason he had stayed the first time and ever time after, was for this man. Not Kevin. Not the warm house and free food. Certainly not the Exy footage and the detailed breakdowns he and Kevin had done. What would it be like to stick around for Andrew one more time. Risk everything by playing college Exy, and see him each day after.

  


“I wasn’t kidding.” Neil starts, not bothering to hide his staring. “If they think I’ve got allies or friends. They will kill them all to get to me next time. Yesterday was one thing, you were an unknown variable and their target was always going to be me. Next time they might come after you.”

  


Andrew lit up two cigarettes and passed one over. “You worried about me now?”

  


“Yes.” Neil admitted, drawing on the smoke.

  


“Come with us.” Andrew says quietly. It sounds like a plea and Neil’s heart sinks. “Surround yourself with people and make it harder for them. The foxes aren’t exactly hopeless when it comes to protecting their own.”

  


“You think it’s worth the risk?” What he’s really asking is ‘Can I stay? Do you want me to?’

  


“I wouldn’t offer it if I didn’t.” ‘Yes’ Neil hears. “Talk to Coach, hear him out. Come to Eden’s tonight and decide in the morning if you’re climbing into the car with us or walking away.”

  


“Alright.” Neil manages, letting a slow smile take over his face. “I can do that.”

  


He wonders absently how the rest of the world would view them. Two known killers lounging around in the morning sun, discussing the pros and cons of staying together (not that they were in a relationship). Would they see two young men just trying to survive? Or would they see nothing but warning bells at Andrews knives and his gun.

  


Andrew held the cigarette pack up in silent question.

  


Neil shakes his head. “Actually.” He remembers. “I bought you something. It’s in my duffle.”

  


“You bought me something…” Andrew looks at him curiously.

  


“I’ll get it, if you give me the key.” Andrew shakes his head as he gets up.

  


Neil watches as he disappears into the house again. Still not trusted to be alone in his room then. That was fair. He stretched out and entertained himself with the idea of college. What would he even do there? Outside of Exy, he didn’t really have any interest in pursuing an actual career. What courses did they even offer? Maybe he would ask what the others were studying, somehow, he couldn’t see Kevin sitting in the library and studying a text book.

  


Andrew dropped the duffle at his feet on the way to his spot by the railing. Neil grinned as he pulled it into his lap. He had no-idea how to present a person with a gift. He pulled the black box out of his bag and tossed it unceremoniously at Andrew. He caught it easily and stared at the box turning it over in his hands slowly.

  


“You actually bought me something…” Neil wasn’t sure if he was speaking to him or to himself.

  


“Try opening it.” He suggested.

  


Andrew who walked into a gunfight with a set of knives without hesitation, took his time opening the box. Taking care to peel the stickers off that held the lid down. Neil had his hand half way in his duffle when he froze to watch. Andrew looked like he had never opened a gift before and Neil having not given or received one in years, was berating himself for not presenting it more officially. He had assumed that with a house full of friends and family, Andrew would be more comfortable with gift giving than he was.

  


Andrew eye’s the contents, running his fingertips over them. It seems almost to personal to watch so Neil returns his attention to fishing out the three boxes of cigarettes he bough as well, dropping them on the small table beside him and dumping his bag under his seat.

  


“Have you had one before?” He asks, breaking the silence.

  


Andrew blinks at him and shakes his head slowly.

  


“Do you want me to show you how it works?”

  


Andrew nods this time, pulling the items out of their moulded places in the box and setting them along the railing. Neil joins him, pulling the zippo gently from his finger and dismantling it to show him how to change the wick and flint. Andrew nods along to his brief explanation and watches as he fills it with lighter fluid and put it back together again.

  


The zippo is black, inlaid with fire opal edged in gold. It is brilliantly eye catching and distinctive. Which is why Neil had bought it without a second thought. He wouldn’t mention the rare tag or the price. Watching Andrew run his fingers over the design before opening it and flicking it into life, Neil knows he made the right choice.

  


He retrieves two of the cigarette packs from the table and hands one to Andrew with the same lack of ceremony and opens his own.

  


“I don’t know if you’ve had these before, but they seem like something that would get your attention.” He says pulling out a cigarette from his pack and motioning for Andrew to do the same.

  


Andrew opens the pack and sniffs the contents in surprise. Neil grins as he pulls one out and sticks it between his lips. He flicks the lighter to life again, holding it up between them and they light up at the same time.

  


Andrew flicks the lighter shut and stares at the cigarette as he holds the smoke in his lungs. When they exhale Neil laughs as the scent of chocolate and coffee fills the air between them.

  


“Why?” Andrew demands quietly, holding up the Zippo.

  


“Why what?”

  


“Why buy me anything?”

  


Neil eye’s him carefully. “I really didn’t put much thought into it. I saw it and it reminded me of you, so I bought it.

Besides, how can you drive around in a car like yours and light your cigarettes with a bic?”

  


Andrew turned the lighter over in his fingers. “Dark and gay?”

  


Neil grins at the flecks of bright colours in the opal. “Unique and beautiful.”

  


Andrew stares at him as he takes the next drag.

  


“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He accuses.

  


“I’m sure you have a list.”

  


“It’s alphabetized.”

  


Neil laughs as Andrew glares at him, reaching for his pack of cigarettes to examine.

  


“Coffee?”

  


“If I’m going to smoke…” He chuckles at Andrews incredulous look. “Actually smoke. Not just smell it. Then I go for these.” He holds out his cigarette in offering and smirks when Andrew takes it, taking a drag with his eye’s fixed steadily on him. “I figured you would appreciate the chocolate version more. I got you two packs.”

  


The back door banged open before he could respond. Neil grimaced at the sight of the Coach strolling out on the porch to meet them. Wymack took in everything with his eye’s. Andrew passing Neil’s smoke back, with one still in his hand, the zippo packaging and lighter fluid lined up on the railing between them and Neil’s duffle stashed under the chair to the side.

  


“Do we need to have a chat?” He asked Andrew.

  


“Sure,” Andrew responded with a glare. “About what the fuck you’re doing in my house.”

  


“You know Kevin.” Coach commented pulling out his own pack and lighting up. “He is demanding that we find a way to keep the kid here. Started showing me his old high school footage.”

  


Neil rolled his eyes. He had already sat through Kevin constructive criticisms on every match he had ever played, he did not need to revisit the argument.

  


“I haven’t played in over a year, why would you gamble on me joining?” He wants to know.

  


“Nicky hadn’t played in three, and I took him in. Why was there footage from a track meet on there?” Coach wanted to know.

  


“He found that?” Neil asked in surprise. Kevin hadn’t dug that up the last time they discussed it. Wymack just nodded. “Coach Hernandez got roped into a disagreement with the track coach about the value of athleticism between the sports. I got pulled into representing the Exy players at a track meet to prove a point. He won 50 bucks from that.”

  


Amusement danced in Andrews eyes as Wymack studied him.

  


“You outstripped every runner on that field. Your final time was 3.50 for a mile.”

  


“That’s why Hernandez won 50 bucks.”

  


“And how are you now?”

  


Neil tossed his butt into the ashtray. “I’m still fit, but I haven’t trained since high school.”

  


“I wouldn’t be able to get the board to sign off on a scholarship until the next school year.” Wymack stated looking between them. “I don’t suppose there is anyway for you to cover the cost of college for a few months. We could put you on the team if you were enrolled, but not before then.”

  


Andrew shot him a piercing look and he cleared his throat. “It’s a possibility.”

  


“If you can get yourself enrolled, I can sign you.” He stated. “Will this,” He waved a hand between the two of them. “Be a problem?”

  


Neil shot Andrew a look, but he was glaring at the Coach. “How’s Abby?”

  


“Fuck you Midget!” Coach gestured rudely before stomping back into the house.

  


“Abby?” Neil asked.

  


“Team nurse.” Andrew filled him in, picking up another smoke. “The team has been trying to confirm their relationship for years.”

  


“Are you saying…”

  


“No.” Andrew growled.

  


“It sounded like…”

  


“Fuck you.”

  


Neil lost it in fits of laughter. Andrew had just told his/their coach that the were in a secret relationship. Andrew simply glared at him.

  


Neil found himself cornered in the bathroom by Nicky after dinner. Nicky had been sent out earlier that afternoon only to come back with Chinese and a bag full of new clothes for him. Apparently, he did not own anything suitable for a night out at Eden’s. He could appreciate the new combat boots though, they were much nicer than his worn out sneakers. That wasn’t the problem. The problem was that even dressed in new clothes to fit in with their all black ensemble, Nicky decided that eye liner was a must to bring out the bright blue of his eyes.

  


How was he supposed to sit still with someone attacking his face with a sharp pencil? Nicky ended up pinning him against the wall and holding his face still to apply it. Aaron laughed at him from the doorway. Two middle fingers were not enough to express his annoyance at them.

  


Eden’s was overflowing when they arrived, with a line clogging up the sidewalk to the end of the block. Neil didn’t understand how they were expecting to get in, but Andrew pulled the car up at the front door and their group was welcomed like the were on the walk of fame. One of the bouncers passed a VIP sign to Andrew, who took off to find parking while the other were ushered inside with handshakes and claps on the back. Neil was welcomed into the fold by association, earning him several glares from the would be patrons waiting in line.

  


Kevin tugged him through the crowd and Nicky picked a fight with someone to clear out one of the larger tables overlooking the dance floor. The ease in which the other customers were moved on to make way for them was incredible. It looked like a well practiced dance and Neil was beginning to wonder just how often they did this. Aaron cleared the table of empty drinks and disappeared towards one of the busboys, re-appearing minutes later and claiming one of the stools as they waited on Andrew.

  


Nicky and Kevin were watching the dancers out on the floor. In the spirit of New Years, the crowd was decked out in various glowsticks and neo paint illuminated by the black lights in the club, all jumping a swaying to the heavy beat. The whole made the clubs black on black agender more ominous and entrancing.

  


Andrew appeared by his side, wrapping his fingers around his wrist and tugging him off the stool. Aaron rolled his eyes and turned to watch the floor with the others as Neil stumbled after him. Andrew kept hold of his wrist until they hit the bar, brushing their fingers together as he let go.

  


Like the bouncers at the front of the club, the bartenders all sent salutes down the line to Andrew, who nodded back and settled his eyes on one bartender. The guy was easily six feet, with a wide grin and a mesh shirt that hid nothing. He raised a single finger to Andrew as he finished making a round of colourful cocktails for a group of women several seats down.

  


“I thought you would be in here every night being the holidays?” The bartender, the name tag read Roland, said in way of greeting.

  


Andrew lifted a single shoulder and tilted his head towards Neil. “We hit a snag.”

  


Roland looked him over, taking in every detail from his hair to the way he stood with his body angled towards Andrew.

  


“He’s cute.” He commented, turning back to Andrew. “The usual?”

  


“No. I’ve already interrogated him, keep them clean.”

  


“What.” Neil started. “You usually drug the people you bring here?”

  


“Usually.” Andrew glanced at him, as Roland started pouring shots without comment. “They tend to talk more with some social lubrication, and I like to know who I can trust.”

  


“Guns are more effective.” Neil chuckles.

  


“You interrogated him with a gun?” Roland asks hallway through a shot. “Don’t start bringing guns in here Andrew.”

  


“Relax, it was his gun.”

  


Roland glanced at him and he grinned back sharply. “Right… What are you drinking then?”

  


“Soda.”

  


“Add some extra shots Roland.”

  


Roland does as he’s asked, pouring a mix of different shots and adding a can of soda to the tray and sliding it across, but doesn’t let go.

  


“Will I see you later?” He asks Andrew, with a pointed look.

  


Andrew looks at him blankly, taking hold of the tray. “No.”

  


Roland lets go with a shrug and turns back to his customers as Neil tries to decipher what the question was about. Andrew is unfazed but there is something hot bubbling beneath his skin and doesn’t like the feeling.

  


“Come on,” Andrew prods him forward. “I need you to clear a path for me.”

  


Neil blinks at him and moves ahead to do just that. Most people clear out of the way with a quick glance at Andrew, but a couple need to be pushed aside before they get the hint.

  


Kevin falls on the shots like a man dying of dehydration. Andrew divvies the rest up into groups of mixed shots and pushes them in front of Aaron and Nicky with ease. Neil cracks the soda open and Andrew pushes a shot in front of him as well. Just one. Unlike the five each for the others and Andrews four.

  


“What is it?”

  


“Whiskey.” Andrew states raising a glass with identical liquid in it to his lips.

  


Neil glances back at the bar, where Roland is hidden behind a group of shuffling bodies, and back at Andrew who’s staring at him with a raised brow. He brings the glass up and makes a show of downing it at once. Andrew doesn’t seem satisfied with it, but doesn’t say anything as they turn back to the group. Kevin has five empty glasses in front of him and is eagerly pushing for Nicky and Aaron to catch up so they can dance. He shakes his head and sips at his soda as he watches them down the rest of their drinks. They will die is they consume at this rate all night and he’ll be spending hours in the ER as they get their stomachs pumped.

  


“It that it, or will they be back for more at some point?” He asks Andrew when the others rum off to the dance floor.

  


“They’ll be back in an hour or so.” Andrew says fingering his third drink absently. “For another round before the countdown.”

  


Neil hums as he cleans up the empty glasses, arranging them neatly on the abandoned tray.

  


“Why don’t you drink?”

  


Neil glances at him as he plays with the glasses. “We only really drank as a supplement for painkillers.” He explained cautiously. “Couldn’t go to a hospital, so… Get shot, get stabbed, break your arm… I had to learn how to take care of that without medical supplies. Cauterize the wound, stitch it up, reset bones… whatever. When the pain got too much or we needed disinfectant, we bought vodka.”

  


“You didn’t drink when your shoulder was dislocated.” Andrew accuses.

  


“You were a threat.” He counters. “And my head was fuzzy enough with the pain, adding alcohol wasn’t a smart idea.”

  


“Am I not a threat anymore?” He asks, pushing another shot in front of him.

  


“No.” Neil admits. “You could have killed me at any point in the past week. Why would you drag it out?”

  


“You’re betting on the idea that I’m not that much of an asshole?”

  


“I was raised by a man that likes to torture. You may be violent, but you are not cruel.”

  


“I have several people who would testify differently. Are you willing to bet on it?”

  


Neil pick up the shot and downed it while he held Andrews gaze. “Yes.”

  


Andrews mouth twitches and there is something like satisfaction in his gaze, almost amusement, and he is lost in the spark in his eyes. Obviously, he was hopeless. There was clearly something going on with Andrew and the bartender and yet, he could not bring himself to care. Not now. Not with Andrews attention on him. He should know better.

  


They sit side by side, watching the dancefloor below as Kevin grinds between a young couple, enjoying the attention from both man and woman alike. Aaron is lost in the oceans of bodies dancing wildly with the crowd, while Nicky has found a young man with roaming hands to keep him entertained.

  


“I can get the next round.” Neil offers with about 30 minutes to midnight.

  


Andrew waves him off with a curious look and a glance back to the bar. Neil doesn’t wait for anything further, grabbing the tray and making his way to the bar. Thankful that the crowds have been moving steadily towards the dancefloor as the count down approaches.

  


He sets the tray on the bar and sends a signal to Roland, not wanting to risk the other bartenders not knowing the order. Roland moves to him the moments he is free, placing the tray on the back bench out of the way and beginning to mix the new rounds.

  


“I didn’t catch your name.”

  


“It’s Neil.”

  


Roland lifts his chin in the direction of their table. “How long have you known that lot?”

  


Neil chuckles darkly. “There is a short answer and a long answer. Short answer is that I’ve known Kevin since I was a kid.”

  


Roland’s eyes widen. “Really…?” He smiles. “I thought it had more to do with Andrew.”

  


“That’s the long story.” Neil agrees. “I meet every-one else about a week ago. Stumbled into the wrong place, I suppose. They’re trying to convince me to join the Exy team.”

  


“And Andrew threatened you with a gun?”

  


Neil grins wickedly. “To be fair, I did pull it on him.”

  


“And how did that end with you two hooking up?” Roland sets the bottle aside leveling Neil with a cool stare.

  


Neil glares at him, glancing back to where Andrew was sitting at the table and back.

  


Roland smirks. “I’ve known him too long to be offended if he turns me down for a night, but, he’s never turned me down for another guy before.”

  


Neil has no idea what to do with that admission. Back at the table Andrew is watching him, uncertainty written on his otherwise blank face, if you knew what to look for.

  


“Don’t worry.” Roland says, claiming his attention again. “Andrew and I have never been a thing. More like friends who occasionally meet up to ward off sexual frustration.” At Neil’s bland stare he elaborates. “We were friends first, and we’ll be friends still. Trust me. I can count on one hand the amount of times I’ve kissed his mouth in the past two years. What about you?”

  


Neil smirks despite himself. “More than that, and I’ve only known him a week.”

  


“Really…” Roland purrs leaning across the bar. “How was it?”

  


“Fuck off!” Neil grins.

  


“Well if you join the team, I’ll be seeing a lot more off you. You need to know that if you and Andrew are together, then I’m not in the way, and I don’t want this to affect how we get along either.”

  


“How can you walk away so easily?” Neil needs to understand. “Don’t you want more?”

  


“Sure.” Roland agrees, turning back to making the drinks. “But not with him. Andrew is a good friend and a fun time, but he is not my future. Nothing against him, just not some-one I can have a forever with. And if he’s yours, then by all means, join the team and take what you can with him. I’m happy to sit in the bar and wait for my forever.”

  


Roland finishes the tray with a fresh can of soda for him and a friendly smile. “Are we good?”

  


“Sure.” Neil agrees, passing a wad of cash across. “Hey, thanks for telling me.”

  


Roland sends him off with a wave and turns back this neglected customers and Neil balances the tray carefully, hoping he won’t spill to much on the way to the table. Andrew is shooting glances at the bar as he sets the tray down, a few of the drinks have spilled but it’s less than he was expecting.

  


“You’ll never get any tips like that.” Andrew comments at his grin.

  


“Lucky I don’t wait tables for a living.” He says searching out the others on the dance floor. “How do you know everyone in here?”

  


“Nicky got Aaron and I jobs here, washing dishes in the back, while we were in high school. That, and I’ve broken up a few fights and helped the bouncers out a time or two. Eden looks after its own.”

  


Neil nodded as he opened up the fresh soda.

  


“Did you get what you were after?” Andrew asks with a nod to the bar.

  


“I wasn’t actually after anything.” He tells him, looking over to where Nicky and Kevin are climbing the stairs. “Roland seems chatty though.”

  


“He can be.” Andrew agrees, dividing the shots into groups again, in time for the others to reach them.

  


Kevin is the first to finish his drinks and make his way back to the dance floor. Neil and Andrew sit back and watch as Nicky claims a stool and starts drunkenly rambling about some guy on the floor as he works his way through his own shots.

  


“Are we going to have to carry them out of here?” Neil asks him as Aaron joins the table.

  


“Maybe. Depends when we want to leave.”

  


“Not before midnight.” Aaron mumbles into his drink.

  


Andrew gestures to them as evidence. Nicky finishes his drink with a slap on Aarons arm and stumbles off to find his young man again. Aaron curses him for spilling his drink, tossing it back and staring at the remaining three in front of him.

  


“You can always come back.” Neil suggests.

  


Aaron glares at him and downs them in quick succession. Neil shakes his head sadly, he was going to be carrying someone out to the car tonight, the only sober one seemed to be Andrew.

  


“Five minutes till midnight!” The DJ calls over the music.

  


Aaron straightens up and stumbles off his stool, back out to the dance floor and Neil repeats the clean-up, dumping empty shot glasses onto the tray. The only shots left are the ones lined up in front of Andrew, who is steadily watching his progress now that the people on their level are all making their ways into the throngs of the writhing bodies and neon lights.

  


“Is it always like this?” He asks.

  


“The club or the drinking?”

  


“The drinking.” Neil clarifies, returning his stare evenly. “How are they not dead?”

  


“They’ve built up a tolerance.” Andrew responds downing his own shot. “Do it often enough and you can handle quite a bit before you start getting affected.”

  


“You seem to handle it better than they do.”

  


“I’m more practiced.” He agrees. “What did Roland want?”

  


“To assure me that you two weren’t serious.” Neil mocks, playing with his soda, not able to meet Andrews eye.

  


Andrew shoots a glare at the bar. “I don’t… I’ve never been in a relationship.”

  


Neil studies the way his fingers are tapping on the edge of the table despite his otherwise calm demeanour. Its nice to know that he’s not the only one who’s nervous about this.

  


“Neither have I.” He says turning in his seat to face him.

  


Andrew searches the space, looking for something that Neil could not begin to comprehend, before sliding off his seat to stand in front of him.

  


“Yes or no?” He asks as the DJ calls for the 30 second count.

  


Neil bites his lip, looking around their near empty floor with Roland tucked behind the bar serving those last minute drinkers, and the over flowing dance floor below them. “Yes.”

  


Andrew slide his hands along his thighs and steps neatly between his legs, robbing Neil of any sense that doesn’t involve their proximity. So much for that secret relationship. It doesn’t matter. Not when Andrew is looking at him, all wanting and challenge, if there was ever a time to walk away, this would be it. But he can’t. He can’t think of anything other than Andrews mouth on his and why wasn’t it?

  


Andrew hooks his fingers into his belt loops and pulls him flush against his chest. Neil grabs his shoulders on reflex and quickly works his hands into safer territory as the crowd beneath them scream the count down to midnight. All he can think about is the feeling of Andrews hand on his hip as the other works its way up to the back of his neck, pulling him down into a bruising kiss when the count runs out.

  


Andrews hands in his hair. Whiskey on his lips. The warm brush of tongues in his mouth. Neil is dizzy at the touch. He wants Andrew to push him against the wall and pull his shirt off. Wants him to drop him on the bed and climb on top. He’s moaning into his mouth at the thought and Andrew is slowing down. Bringing him back to reality as the kiss slows to a simple slide of lips and Neil can hear the crowd of the club around them once again.

  


His breath against his lips is nothing compared to the emotion running wild in his eyes. Neil cannot tear his eyes away from the sight. Whatever this is, whatever Andrew is thinking, he would go down with the ship. He was lost at sea and there was no white flag in sight.

  


“Come to Palmetto.” Andrew urges quietly. “Stay.”

  


Neil blinks at him, unsure of where the words came from but knowing exactly where they would take him. “Okay.”

  


Andrew blinks this time. Unable to believe what he is hearing.

  


“Yes?”

  


“Yes.” Neil confirms, running his thumb over the edge of his lip, wanting desperately to close the distance.

  


Andrew does it for him. Kissing him slowly and sweetly, overwhelming his senses until the only thing in his head is Andrew. When he pulls away this time, he buries his face in his neck and Neil is left blinking in the dark club as he tries to re-orientate himself.

  


Groups of people are migrating back to the tables now and Roland is watching them from behind the bar with a wide grin. He didn’t have anything against Roland personally, but he wished the guy would fuck off. Things were confusing enough without Andrews ex-something watching them. Andrew ghosts a kiss over his jaw effectively claiming his attention.

  


“We could find the children and head home?” He offers.

  


Neil chuckles, thinking about what they could do once they got there. “Give them a little longer.” He decides. “We’ll get there soon enough one way or the other. Let’s make sure they sleep through.”

  


“Alright.” Andrew agrees, amusement dancing in his eye’s as he reclaims his seat.

  


Neil regrets that decision when he’s left to babysit the three of them as Andrew bring the car around. Nicky keeps trying to touch people’s hairs, stroking their heads and telling them they’ll meet the love of their lives soon. Kevin is leaning on him bodily and Aaron keeps walking out into traffic. With Kevin weighing him down he takes of the back of Aarons shirt to keep him from wandering off and has to dog whistle Nicky into coming back every 10 seconds. He sighs in relief when he spots Andrews car rounding the corner.

  


“Did you survive?” Andrew asks as they dump the drunks into the backseat.

  


“No!” Neil huffs indignantly. “How the hell do you manage them on your own?”

  


“I leave while they can still stand straight.” He stage whispers across the backseat, as he buckles Kevin in. “Make sure you put the child lock on.”

  


The drive home dissolves into a series of drunkenly muddled song lyrics and fits of giggles. Andrew keeps flicking his eye’s to the rear view mirror to check on them and by the time they reach the house Aaron is curled into Kevin’s side with his eye’s firmly shut while Kevin stares unseeing out the window.

  


Ushering them inside is a matter of trying to keep them upright as they stumble over their feet. Andrew drags Aaron up the stairs to put him to bed as Neil herds Kevin onto the lounge, dumping a blanket on top of him before finding Nicky. Nicky was in the kitchen pulling random items out of the cupboards and mumbling about breakfast. He has to keep pulling things out of his hands as he herded him towards his bedroom with the promise of pancakes and doughnuts in the morning.

  


Andrew was packing up the kitchen when he came back out again.

  


“Nicky?” Was all he asked. Neil scrubbed a hand through his hair.

  


“Nicky.” He agreed, relaxing now that the drunks had been neatly tucked away into their separate areas. Andrew poured a couple of shots, sliding one over in silent offering. “What the hell am I supposed to do at college?”

  


Andrews mouth twitched and Neil chuckled as he picked up the shot. “What do you want to do?”

  


“I’ve never considered college.” He admits as Andrew crowds him into the bench. “Do I just pick subjects at random? Is there a history of Exy course I can breeze through?”

  


He loses his train of thought when Andrew nips at his jaw. “Yes or no?”

  


“Yes.” He breathes.

  


“We can figure the college thing out tomorrow when we get there. You have a few days to figure it out.” Andrew says quietly, framing his face in his hands. “For now, lets go to bed.”

  


Neil leant in without thinking, claiming his mouth and pouring his heart into the kiss. Andrew gives back just as much with each meeting of their lips and slide of his tongue. Neil gives up on every whispering voice at the back of his head telling him how stupid this is and dives headfirst into it. If he’s going to change the script, then there was no reason to keep second guessing the decision. It was time to commit.

  


Andrew kept his hands on him all the way into his room. Kicking the door shut behind them and stripping him of his clothes and tossing them aside the moment it was closed. Andrew pushed him towards the bed, naked and blind in the sudden darkness seemed to amplify every touch and sound. His skin tingled after each touch, leaving him in breathless mess as Andrew worked his way over his body. Every sharp intake of breath had Andrew growling softly and nipping at his skin.

  


The wet heat on the underside of his arousal had him cursing profusely, arching up at the feeling, and he swore he heard Andrew moan before he bit down on his hip and pushed him further into the mattress. Neil carded his fingers through his soft hair as he sucked at that same spot on his hip, his other hand clenched in the blanket as he tried to hold still while his body was screaming to arc up into the contact. Andrews mouth moved from his hip to his arousal again and Neil was thankful for being held down as curses dripped from his lips, punctuated by uncontrollable moans. Andrew hummed as he ran his mouth along him, sending vibrations coursing through every fibre of him. He barely had time to warn him before he was spilling into his mouth, not that Andrew seemed to mind, licking him clean before climbing up his body again and meeting his mouth.

  


Neil wanted to give back. Wanted to make Andrew experience the same level of ecstasy that he had shown him. But he knew that Andrew wouldn’t allow that kind of touch. He settled for pouring everything he had into their kiss and moving his mouth to his neck, nipping and sucking at every spot that Andrew liked. He didn’t stop until Andrew had collapsed against him, sweaty, panting and beautiful in the dim light.

  


“You’re really staying?” Andrew whispered into the darkness after they settled into bed, listening to the soft rain on the roof.

  


“Yes.” He answered easily. For the first time, there was no voice at the back of his mind telling him to pick up and run.

  


“Things are going to get interesting at Palmetto.” Andrew reaches out claiming the hand he had resting on the blanket and intertwining their fingers. 

  


“What, this past week hasn’t been interesting?”

  


“Exactly.” He agrees. “You’re the type of person that shows up and changes everything.”

  


Neil wasn’t sure how to respond, instead he closed his eyes and focused on Andrews thumb rubbing circles into the back of his hand.

  


The drive to Palmetto the next day was slow and filled with frequent coffee stops as their three heavily hungover friends attempted to look alive. Nicky slapped at his arm, pointing to the large orange building on the horizon. Neil watched it come into clearer view as they approached.

  


“The Foxhole Court.” Kevin said from his place in the passenger seat. “Welcome home Nate.”

  



End file.
